𝐵𝓁𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝑒

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 18

When the doorbell rings, I jump up like I’ve just been electrocuted. Is he already here? I glance at the wall clock, my hands mechanically smoothing down the sides of my plaid skirt. We are to meet at eight o’clock—he’s five minutes early. Jungkook strikes me as someone who deeply values punctuality, so this seems a bit out of character, but it doesn’t bother me. Actually, I’m happy he’s here early: I couldn’t wait any longer.

I check my reflection in the small mirror in the hallway, smoothing down the long, black strands of my hair, then I make my way to the door and I pull it open. My smile falters as soon as I realize jungkook’s not the one waiting outside. I push the door to try and close it, but Ben’s quicker than me: he places one foot next to the doorframe, preventing me from locking myself inside.

“Now, now” he grunts, shoving the door with such strength I stumble backward, holding onto the wall to avoid a bad fall. “When did you become so fucking rude, huh?” He crosses the threshold of my apartment, not bothering to close the door behind him, and starts walking toward me.

“Your boyfriend comes to pay you a visit and you try to slam the door in his face?”

“You’re not my boyfriend and you’re not welcome here” I reply, fighting to keep my voice stable. I point at the doorway. “Go away. Now.”

He doesn’t listen: his steps are long and fast, and in a second, he reaches me. He grabs my elbow to pull me closer, his grip painful. There’s a mad gleam lighting up his gaze. “A stripper?” he snorts, pushing me against the wall. “What fucking possessed you to accept?”

“Are you nuts?” I shout, pulling my arm free with a hard tug. “It’s the job you found!”

He manages to grab me again, his fingers sinking in the tender flesh of my forearm. “I thought you’d be serving tables, not this!”

“Well, guess what: it’s none of your business. Let go of me!” I pull and pull, but his grip is too strong—I’m only hurting myself. I can already see red marks blooming on the skin under his fingers. “Let go, you psycho!”

“Call her now” he frantically mumbles, his free hand searching my skirt pockets. “You call Kath immediately and quit, because she won’t fucking fire you, even though I asked her nicely.”

I move backward, but I only manage to trip on the carpet and fall, the couch barely breaking the tumble. Ben is on me in less than a second.

I blindly kick, knee, and scratch him, but he doesn’t move, his whole weight pressing me down. “Stop, stop!” I shout, thrashing under him, trying to break free. “Let me go!”

“Not before you resign” he replies with a grunt, his hands pulling, searching, so intrusive they make me want to throw up. “Where’s your phone?” I don’t think: I reach for it, buried deep in the back pocket of my skirt, and I throw it in Ben’s face.

“Fucking bitch!” he shouts, his hands pressed on his nose. “That hurt!” Taking advantage of his confusion, I scramble to slide away, crawling on the thin, wrinkled carpet. I’m too slow: in the span of one second, Ben is on me. He straddles my legs, pushes my face on the floor, and for a second, he just stops. I almost hear the wheels turning in his head,
thinking, considering. I definitely hear his breath grow labored, feel him shift to sit in a more comfortable position, feel his gaze piercing my back.

“You’re stuck, huh?” he hisses. There’s a weird edge to his voice, an undertone that makes me shiver. “Bet you’re not feeling so bold right now. No, you’re vulnerable… at my mercy.”

That said, he lifts the back of my skirt.

“No, no, no!” I scream when I realize what he’s planning to do. “I’ll call her, I’ll… Whatever you want, but stop!”